


The Dalek Adventures of Oswin Oswald

by othellia



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 07, Angst, Body Horror, Dalek Oswin, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othellia/pseuds/othellia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy's final goodbye letter is worded slightly differently, prompting the Doctor to cross his own timestream and rescue Oswin Oswald from the Dalek asylum. However having a Dalek as a companion comes with its own problems. Despite Oswin's claims to still be human can she really divorce herself from her Dalek half? Will the Doctor come to regret his impulsive decision?</p><p>Alternate Season 7, AU from The Angels Take Manhattan onwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Angels Take Manhattan

**Author's Note:**

> Since this story will follow the episodes of season seven, rather than doing complete episode rewrites, this story will focus on diverging moments. That means shorter chapters... which are somewhat newer to me. But good for frequent updates.
> 
> I originally thought of this story before Season Eight came out, so I only plan to do Season Seven for now.

_By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. So know that we lived well and were very happy. And, above all else, know that we will love you always. Sometimes I do worry about you, though. I think, once we're gone, you won't be coming back here for a while and you might be alone, which you should never be. Don't be alone, Doctor._

_And I know you. You're going to ignore every single word on this piece of paper and hole yourself off in some cloud. You're going to blame yourself for something that was never your fault. That was never your decision._

_But I'm_ **_telling_ ** _you, Doctor, as my last command. Stop moping. Keep running. And remember us._

The Doctor looked up from Amy's hand-penned epilogue. Her last page.

His hands shook as he fought the urge to crumple up the fragile piece of paper and hurl the entire thing into the nearby stream. If the gravestone hadn't already confirmed it, this had. Both of the Ponds were dead. They gotten sucked back in the past and now walked a linear path like all the other humans on their planet.

Linear and dead.

A tiny sob escaped him. He clamped down on several others that threatened to follow. His chest ached, painful and hollow as his hearts ripped themselves into infinitesimal pieces.

Somewhere, some nasty conscious part of his brain reminded him that this was his first true loss in this lifetime. Amy had been the first face he'd seen, like a baby chick imprinting upon a mother. And while everything else before... every _one_ else from before hurt, they were more distant… easier to push to the back of his mind and forget…

She'd even had the gall to lecture him, _ordering_ him not to be sad. He scoffed at that. How did she ever expect that when she was the cause of it all?

He paused and reread her letter despite knowing that doing so would make no difference. It hurt as much as the first time, perhaps more, now that he knew there were no new words. Nothing new to be said. It was a recording now, the words just as much as a ghost as the woman who'd written them.

But there was something odd about the final words she'd chosen. Something vaguely familiar…

Unbidden memories flashed across his mind of a dying mechanical world draped in snow. Of yelling and crying in the darkness. Of a disembodied voice that had guided them all to safety and her impossible soufflés…

_Run you clever boy. And remember me._

Of promises he'd been unable to keep.

A ridiculous, half-mad thought rushed through his head, sparking against all his neurons and standing his hair on end. The Doctor leapt up, hearts racing, and then quickly fell back down to the park bench.

No, it wasn't half-mad. It was completely mad. He shouldn't... _couldn't_ be so impetuous. After all, it'd been a long time since he'd been stirred to defy the internal river of the universe and had proclaimed himself Timelord Victorius.

And he'd failed.

Or perhaps the universe had succeeded.

Despite that, he told himself that he _had_ saved Yuri and Mia. The two astronauts had lived on, each making changes in the fabric of reality as small and influential as the flap of a butterfly's wings. Their lives mattered - _they_ mattered - just as much as Adelaide had.

The thought gave him little comfort.

And what did he really hope to gain? The notion of crossing his own time stream to rescue a girl that he'd always sacrificed once, sacrificed because her existence was not a way for _anyone_ to live... He would go and save her merely because he couldn't save Amy. It would be a cry for help, a pitiful demonstration to himself that he wasn't completely powerless after all.

With such an emotional basis, did he really have a right?

But as the Doctor closed his eyes and began to plump the depths of his genetic knowledge of the universe with his mind, sifting through everything that was and everything that would be… he confirmed that, no, the girl herself was not a fixed point. Maybe it was true that he was only contemplating the rescue as a way to vicariously fix what he'd let happen to Amy. At the same time, none of that detracted from the fact that it _was_ possible.

Oh yes, the explosion had happened. The Asylum had been destroyed. He could feel at least that much in his bones. However, everything that came after was veiled in a thin shroud of mystery.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open. He was still sitting in Central Park. The same ducks quacked. The same bike bells rang out as their owners passed by, tossing up flurries of leaves as they did... but everything was slightly different. Colors were brighter. Sounds were clearer. The world itself was crisper.

He had a new focus. A new goal.

Oswin Oswald would see her stars.


	2. Asylum of the Daleks

Oswin sat huddled in her giant command chair, awaiting death. Despite her earlier bravado and trademark cheek, she was terrified.

Who wouldn't be with death just moments away?

She tried her best to think of it as some sort of escape. It was easier if she rationalized it away into something that was better than it actually was. It wouldn't be death because she was already dead. Her real life had ended the second her ship had crash landed on this God-forsaken planet.

_God._

Her family had been mildly religious, but she wasn't. Oswin remembered being dragged to church at the beginning of every lunar cycle when she was very little. She'd been bored to tears then and extremely skeptical, but now she hoped that she was wrong. If there was a God, maybe she'd be reunited with her mother. Her warm and loving mother with dimples in cheeks and sunshine in her heart. They could make soufflés together. The thought made her smile in spite of her inner sorrow.

Or maybe her friend Sadia had been the one with all the answers, and Oswin would end up reincarnating into some new, better life.

Oswin liked the sound of that more than heaven. As glorious as paradise had to be, she wasn't quite ready to leave this universe for good. Not yet at least anyway. To be given a second chance to run around and laugh beneath the open sky… to _not_ get royally screwed over… Yes, she'd choose that over heaven any day.

Meanwhile the seconds kept ticking.

She curled up into a tighter ball. After awhile she realized that they were slowing. She blinked, confused, until she remembered that everything around her was a lie. She didn't exist in reality anymore. Or rather, her body didn't, but her mind didn't. Apparently time could speed up or slow down depending on how she wanted to perceive it.

Oswin felt the seconds grower slower and slower, until each was lasting a near minute.

Maybe it would've been better to speed them up and get it over with. No matter how much she slowed them, it would never be to a complete stop. Time would pass, sooner or later. And perhaps it wouldn't be all too terrible. The force necessary to detonate the planet would guarantee her a swift and painless death.

_Death._

No, she thought, begging herself not to cry all over again. She wasn't ready at all.

Oswin sat there, cowering in upon herself until she finally heard a sound. It was low pitched and drawn out and completely unintelligible. She ignored it at first, thoughts of her inevitable, impending destruction weighing more heavily on her mind. Then some strange new part of her sensed that the noise emanated from something organic.

That wasn't right, she thought with a frown. Nothing on this planet was organic. Not fully organic anyway.

She looked up.

Standing in the doorway of her room was the Doctor, frozen in her slowed time, a mysterious blue box behind him.

* * *

The Doctor stared at Oswin, feeling just a tad bit sick.

It'd seemed like such a brilliant idea back in New York. Oswin deserved a second chance, and he could be… _would_ be the one to give it to her. Despite her outer casing and appearance, the girl was human and she'd more than proven herself of that. She'd been completely human from the moment he'd first spoken to her to the moment that they'd said their goodbyes.

But even keeping all those memories at the forefront of his mind, they felt like such lies.

His people had been destroyed because of the Time War. A war that had raged - in part - to keep Timelord technology out of Dalek control. More than just his people. Countless civilizations and galactic empires had been annihilated. The scars still stretched across all of time and space and always would.

And now he was about to freely invite a Dalek aboard one of his people's greatest creations.

Every instinct of his was screaming at him to stop. It was wrong, terribly wrong. He was making a mistake. Despite her origins, she was now a Dalek. She'd almost lost control once; she could lose it again. She could murder him aboard his own ship and claim it for her own. He could be inadvertently unleashing untold horrors against the universe. It wasn't too late, he could turn away and leave her for good…

No. That was right. Oswin was a 'her.' Dalek's didn't have gender. Gender was impractical. Gender was a form of self-expression. A Dalek would be hard-pressed to define the meaning of self-expression. She wouldn't. She was human. Somewhere behind that eyestalk was a beautiful human brain. A beautiful human brain and and beautiful human mind just waiting to be shown the universe.

They had only seconds left before the first of the explosions went off.

He stretched out his hand in invitation.


	3. Asylum of the Daleks

 

 

Oswin blinked open her eyes.

Something was different. And wrong.

Colors and shapes swam and blurred, nothing quite in focus. The world was too bright. It seared her eyes and she had to blink several times before she could keep them open without tears watering up her vision. She vaguely noted that she wasn’t in her room. Her familiar black, command chair was gone. She was lying down, stretched out on something too rigid to be a bed…

_An operating table._

She was being captured all over again. Cornered by hundreds of Daleks, too terrified and outnumbered to stage any kind of meaningful resistance. She could feel the pinch of metal as she was forcibly hooked up to one of their satanic devices. The numbing pain as razor after razor sliced through her skin…

She screamed.

Through the fog of agony, Oswin dimly felt hands wrap gently around to support her shoulders. She tried to push them away, to twist out of their grip, but they stayed firm. They were also warm.

Warmth was new. It made her pause. She focused on the sensation, letting it draw her back into reality.

Turning slowly to her to the left, she started to make out the shape of a man. As his image sharpened, she realized knew him. Recognized him. He was rather young looking, about her age. His forehead and chin were far too large for him, and he had barely any eyebrows to speak off. She found herself focusing on his eyes though. They were deep, mysterious even… and currently full of concern.

“What-” she bit back a cough. Her voice was raspy. Unused. “What’s going on?”

“How much do you remember?” he asked.

“I…”

She blinked and she was in her room again. Her cozy dark room with its cozy little oven and cozy curved walls. She’d felt safe there. She’d _been_ safe there, making soufflés to pass the time and playing opera whenever the noise got too loud to bear. That was her routine, over and over again for weeks. Or had it been months? Or maybe just days? Days, it had to have just been days.

And then she was watching a group of newcomers. Scattered across the planet’s snow like wine droplets on a wedding dress. Two men and a red-headed woman. One of them was promising, had promised, to free her.

She was looking at herself. Feeling herself. Both there and not there. Her safe room was a lie. Her world was a mere mental construct. A delusion. She was an atrocity, an unnatural hybrid between the living and unliving.

He was abandoning her… abandoned her…

He had come back.

She stared at the man holding her around the shoulders.

“Doctor?” she whispered, unbelieving.

He smiled, and she felt a small hopeful flutter in her stomach.

“Am I dead?”

The smile faded somewhat.

“No,” was all he said.

“Dreaming?”

“No, not that either.”

“Then how…” Oswin trailed off, raising one of her hands up to stare at it. She visually traced the criss-crossing network of blue veins from where they shone through the pale skin at her wrist. She flexed her fingers, feeling the muscles expand and contract beneath. She followed the length of her arm down towards her elbow and then past that to where it connected with her shoulder.

That was when she noticed that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Only a white sheet lay draped over her lower half. Her entire upper half was completely exposed.

She cried out, scrambling to cover herself with the sheet. The Doctor released her and took a couple awkward steps back.

“Sorry,” he said. “It was easier for the process to have… well, not have…”

“Process?” Oswin asked blankly, avoiding her eyes. Her cheeks burned.

How much had he seen? Most likely everything, an unhelpful part of her brain contributed.

“I couldn’t reverse the damage,” he said. “What they did to you… your actual body… I’m sorry.”

Oswin looked at her one hand again in confusion. She reached up and felt her face.

Nose seemed to be in proper shape. Lips were soft and poke-able as ever. Eyebrows… both eyebrows were still there. Ears stuck out as normal. Her fingers searched for any sort of scars or blemishes, but they couldn’t find even a single pimple. Yes, everything was as it should be.

“Then what…” she said.

“Have you heard of ganger technology?”

Oswin’s eyes widened as she felt her stomach clench.

Of course she’d heard of ganger technology. Or rather The Flesh as the material was called. Some planets used it to make expendable clones for war. Others recognized its inherent sentience, letting the material make its own clones that functioned as some parallel beelike species.

Despite the obvious differences in the two philosophies, one thing remained true of both. Remained true of her.

“I’m a clone then,” was all she managed to say.

“No! No, not at all!” he said, practically stumbling over the words in his haste to say them. “You are _you_. Oswin Oswald. Junior Entertainment Officer of the Starship Alaska. You are the girl responsible for saving my life. You are the girl who brought down the Parliament of the Daleks. It’s all still… _you_.”

Oswin considered that. Considered and rejected it.

“Where’s my real body?”

By the way his face continued to fall, she knew he’d rather have her put the topic behind her. He’d rather have her smile and thank him for her new body and act as though everything that had led up to it, all the tortured she’d suffered through, had never happened.

Tough luck for him.

“It’s in another room,” he finally said. “Hooked up to the machine that’s currently projecting your consciousness into this body.”

“Show me,” she said.

“I… I don’t think that’s the best-“

“ _Show me._ ”

The force of her words almost startled herself, but she stood by them. Oswin kept her face level as she stared at the Doctor, picking his hesitations apart. She was tired of existing between illusion and reality. She needed to fully know the truth. To fully see and accept it. And then maybe she could…

Oh, who was she kidding. She had no idea what she’d do next.

The Doctor sighed.

“Alright,” he said. “Although…”

“Although _what_?” Oswin snapped, nose flaring in irritation.

“Perhaps you’d care for some clothes first?”

Oswin glanced down to where her fist was still clenching the white sheet to her chest. She blushed and then slowly nodded.


	4. The Asylum of the Daleks

The new clothes the Doctor had picked out for her itched. Also, the colors clashed and her shirt didn’t fit her very well, its seams pinching around her shoulder. Still, she supposed the entire ensemble was better than nothing.

That and she should’ve had, well, she _did_ have more important things on her mind. She couldn’t help it though, as she tugged on a sleeve; the clothes kept trickling back into her thoughts. In a way, their laughable normalcy was one of the only things still keeping her sane.

Oswin stood outside a door no visibly different from any others she and the Doctor had passed in his enormous ship. It was completely barren of any markings whatsoever, its plain handle the only thing breaking up the flat, steel monotony of its surface. But at the same time, it _felt_ different. If the Doctor tied a blindfold over her eyes, spun her around, and dragged her down some other corridor, Oswin knew that she’d be able to find it again. Depending on the true size of the Doctor’s ship (he’d been rather evasive when she asked how big it was during their journey from the sick bay), the search could take hours… maybe even days… but she knew she’d find it again.

She was a shadow. And whether it was with soap or thread, Oswin knew that she was still attached to… _it_.

Her blood thrummed as her fingers hovered over the doorknob. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Doctor hovering anxiously nearby, setting her nerves on end.

At last Oswin turned the knob and pushed through.

It was far darker in the small room and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. There were only a couple dim lights; small squarish, blinking things that lit up the right wall like one of the giant switchboards of ancient times. Slowly Oswin began to make out other metal details. The lights were part of a large, rather complicated looking machine with countless wires trailing down onto the floor, towards the back center of the room…

Then the wires extended up… and wrapped themselves around an all-too-familiar shape.

A single Dalek sat unmoving, lifeless in the very back of the room. The wires protruded from the top of its casing, and even as she looked she could feel them protruding from her own head, their metal ends jabbing the very center of her brain…

Oswin slammed her eyes shut and breathed deep breaths until the feeling vanished.

The Dalek was her… The Dalek was her…

Even with the thought practically screaming itself over and over again, it felt… wrong. She opened her eyes again and her mind was oddly… blank?

The Dalek was just a Dalek. A cold, dead, unfeeling Dalek. _She_ was Oswin. Here in this body. _Her_ body.

She took a step forward and heard the Doctor make a stifled noise of protest behind her. She ignored him and took another step. And then another still.

It got harder to walk the closer she got. They seemed to repulse each other, the Dalek and her, like two magnets of the same polarity. Oswin wasn’t quite entirely sure why she kept going. Her feet were taking her steps for her. She finally stopped when nausea began to overwhelm her.

She doubled-over, her stomach about to heave… and then the Doctor was pulling her back.

They stumbled out into the hallway. As Oswin fought to regain her breath, fought to regain full control over her consciousness, she watched the Doctor pull out a tiny key and lock the door. Then he turned to her, a strange, pained look in his eyes.

 _“Satisfied?”_ his face seemed to say.

Oswin didn’t say anything in response. She didn’t _know_ anything to say in response.

Perhaps she’d pushed him too far. He clearly hadn’t been pleased with either her curiosity or what had just happened. He took one last look at her and then walked off.

Her knees grew too shaky to support her anymore, and Oswin sank to the floor. She didn’t cry. Her head was too confused to cry.

She could feel the door calling out to her subtly, like the barely audible call of a siren. Like a siren though, Oswin knew only bad things would happen if she responded to its call.

As much as she protested that she was human, that she’d always been and would always be human, she couldn’t escape the fact that, at least externally, she was also a Dalek. The Doctor obviously wanted her to forget that part, and - the more she thought about it - the more she realized that she did too.

She lifted one of her hands up and examined the hairs on the back of it.

Was that a realistic hope or was she being a foolish girl, dreaming of making soufflés with her mother again?

Even if it was foolish, she’d take the chance.

Eventually she managed to stand up despite her legs still being a bit shaky. With one last glance at the forbidden door, she set off in the direction that the Doctor had gone.


	5. Asylum of the Daleks

"Those are new," the Doctor said, glancing up from his position at the ship's main navigation console.

Oswin looked down at her new ensemble and gave an experimental twirl.

"You said I could take anything I wanted," she said.

"So I did."

Was there just the barest hint of a smile in his lips?

The thought cheered her as she made her way down to the console with a small bounce to her steps.

It'd been several days (could she really call them days? it was hard to find a clock on board and there didn't seem to be any windows) since she'd woken up on the Doctor's ship. The TARDIS he had called it. Time and Re… Something in Something… If it was important, Oswin was sure it'd come up again.

There were lots of things that still hurt when she thought about them, things that the Doctor hadn't been able to fix with the snap of his fingers, but the longer she lived in this body the more distant they became. She'd actually gotten four whole hours of sleep the previous "night"! Alright, it seemed depressing when she thought about it that way, but it really was more than anything she'd managed in the past year.

Earlier that morning, she'd gone exploring and had found the ship's giant wardrobe. Added to her long list of eventual questions: why in Melpomene did the Doctor have just as many women's clothes as he did men's?

Not that she was in a position to complain. She'd instantly ditched the ill-fitting ensemble the Doctor had picked out and had replaced it with a rather tasteful, burgundy dress and a long leather jacket. She admired the swish it currently made around her thighs as she navigated the room.

"So…" Oswin said, stopping next to him. She watched curiously as he fiddled with various knobs, not exactly knowing how to best approach the question. "What next?"

"What do you mean?" the Doctor said. He avoided her eyes as well as her question, keeping his focus on one of the console's many screens.

Oswin shrugged.

"Well, it's not like you can keep me here like this forever."

Even as she said the words, she felt a cold, horrible pit form in her stomach.

When had that ever been decided? That is, other than inside her own head? He could very easily keep her cloistered in his massive ship forever, and she wouldn't have been able to do a single thing about it.

Her heart pounded, and the back of her mouth suddenly felt all too dry. It took a conscious effort to swallow.

To her immense relief though, the Doctor slowly nodded.

"Yes," he said. "Quite right." He turned to face Oswin then, and the grim intensity of his eyes made her breath catch in alarm. "You need to understand though… There need to be rules. Important and non-negotiable rules. Rules that can never be broken. If they aren't, I can't guarantee what will happen to you. To either of us. Do you understand?"

Oswin blinked in shock. "Y-yes," she stammered.

His shoulders sagged as some of the visible stress left them.

"Good. Yes. Very good." He took a deep breath. "First rule, and I'm sorry for this. I really am, but you have to travel with me."

Oswin titled her head and pursed her lips. "But I am traveling with you," she said in confusion.

"No, that's not…" The Doctor ran his fingers through the top of his hair, directing his attention to some mysterious point above and behind Oswin's shoulder. "What I mean is that you'll always have to travel with me. I can't let you go, Oswin. Not like you are. I can't risk-" He stumbled for words and then sighed. "For the rest of your life, you'll have to stay in my custody."

"Oh."

While the impetuous, fiery side of her balked at such a sentence, the more rational side admitted that it made sense. If she was in the Doctor's place, she wouldn't want herself running around in complete freedom either. Not to mention that the machine keeping her in this body was on his ship. Oswin wasn't an expert in ganger technology, but she assumed there was some proximity component to it. If she left, would the link between her two bodies hold? If she took her other body with her, did she have any sort of way to contain it should the worst happen? But at the same time…

The rest of her life. Oswin had no idea how long that was anymore. She didn't know if her natural lifespan had been shortened or lengthened by her transformation, or if it'd been completely unaffected. Maybe the Doctor knew the answer. Though if he said something she didn't want to hear… she kind of wanted to stay unenlightened.

Longer or shorter or the same length. Regardless of the answer, it was a long time.

She also didn't have much of a choice.

"That's not so bad though. Is it?" Oswin finally said, cracking a smile. "After all, I said I always wanted to see the stars, so really when you think about it, in the end I'm just getting what I asked for." She let out a nervous laugh, attempting to diffuse the tension.

Her attempt failed. The Doctor's mouth was set in a somber line.

"Second rule," he said. "While we're outside the TARDIS, you need to remain in my sight at all times."

That she nearly rolled her eyes at.

Free rein, no. There were way too many variables and things that could go wrong. Way too many things about herself that she didn't quite understand yet. She got that. But 24/7 monitoring?

She wasn't that dangerous.

Still, the Doctor was the one who currently held all the keys to the metaphorical kingdom, so she sucked up her frustration and nodded. "Understood."

At last he seemed to lighten up. His eyes gained a new sort of twinkle and the corners of his mouth lifted. As he clapped his hands together in glee, Oswin had to clutch the edge of the console to keep from stumbling, his extreme mood shift throwing her off balance.

"So," he said, twirling past her to fiddle with some random dial. "Where do you want to go first?"

Her brain was still working to process the sudden change from stern guardian to cheerful adventure.

"You… you mean I get to decide?" she asked blankly.

"First trip, passenger always gets to decide."

"Alright." Oswin realized she didn't know the ship's exact capabilities. "What can I choose from?"

His face broke out into a wide, white-toothed smile. The first genuine smile she'd ever seen from him. It was infectious; she could feel the corners of her own mouth rising in response.

"Everything," he simply said.

"Everything?"

"Everything." He sounded smug about it too. She fought the urge to push him in the shoulder.

Even though she highly doubted the claim, Oswin bit her lip as possibilities bombarded her.

A "high cognitive load" question. That's what it was, she thought, remembering the term from an old college psychology course. One of the few she'd taken before dropping out. College hadn't exactly agreed with her. Though come to think of it, entertainment officer-ing hadn't exactly agreed with her either.

Oswin Oswald. Fuck up extraordinaire.

"An alien planet," she said, thinking of the Alaska's original destination.

"Well, that's not much of a challenge," he said, as though she'd offended him by the simplicity of her request. "Any particular one?"

"No," she said. "Any planet will do. As long as it's an alien one."

There was a silence, like he was waiting for her to jump in with some random, exciting, last minute request, and then it was over.

"Off we go then!" he said, flicking switches and whacking buttons. "What is your home planet by the way? Over a trillion planets to choose from, so I'm not expecting to pick yours by mistake, but more improbably things have happened before."

"Eurydice 4."

"Ah… the Melpomene System?"

"That's the one!" Oswin said as she pictured the familiar binary star system and its twelve planets.

"Alright," he said, flipping a final lever. The entire ship suddenly groaned and shuddered, threatening to knock Oswin off her feet. She tightened her hold on the console. "Avoid Greek tragedies. Got it."

She started to open her mouth in protest and give him the far too familiar lecture that, just because some jerk had decided to give everything in the system a depressing name, didn't mean the places themselves were depressing.

And then the phone rang.


	6. The Bells of Saint John

"Well, hello to you too!"

Oswin stared at the Doctor in alarm as they were surrounded by dozens of soldiers with guns. Big guns. Big guns that were currently pointed at the two of them. The Doctor waved at them cheerfully.

He was mad. Pure raving, stark, nutters mad. Had the Doctor saved her just to get her killed again on her first day out?

"Stand down, men."

The sea of soldiers parted as a sharply-dressed blonde woman made her way forward. She didn't smile, but there was a still a sense of warmth to her eyes. She regarded the Doctor with the sort of fondness someone would have for an old friend. The woman nodded.

"Doctor," she said simply.

"Kate Stewart!" the Doctor responded enthusiastically pushing his way past two soldiers to shake the woman's hand. "Pleasure to see you as always. Although I guess not exactly always… not when there's a mysterious terror on the loose." He paused to straighten his bow tie. "Speaking of us!" He whirled unexpectedly and Oswin flinched back in surprise. "Kate meet Oswin. Oswin meet Kate. Kate is the leader of UNIT. Lovely woman. Oswin makes good soufflés. Or so she claims."

Oswin frowned. Soufflés? She had a lot more to offer talent-wise than just her soufflé-making skills. Her programming skills for starters… And she wasn't even exactly that good at making soufflés. Always burned the dang things…

"Now let's get down to business shall we," the Doctor continued.

Kate agreed and led the two through a series of rooms, each one just as heavily guarded as the last. They were definitely in some kind of military facility. The walls were stark, and the florescent lights that hung high above cast an eery, inorganic blue tinge across the metal and stone.

Oswin shuddered.

She listened as Kate began to talk about the problem currently plaguing them. Apparently there was something wrong with the wi-fi. Oswin had no idea what a "wi-fi" was, but after awhile assumed it had something to do with a local, non-interplanetary internet. Somehow it was uploading and downloading people instead of data. Well, uploading at least. If it'd been downloading them back, Oswin assumed Kate wouldn't have been as concerned about it.

Finally they entered a room filled with hundreds of screens mounted on a large wall. Dozens of computers were lined up in rows with an equal number of operators typing at their keyboards. Kate looked at wall of screens as she continued to talk. The Doctor looked at it too. Clara attempted to look at it, but frankly there was way too much meaningless information scattered across it all. She gave up after it began to give her a headache.

"Doctor," Oswin whispered, tugging at his sleeve to grab his attention. "Even if this planet is a bit primitive, uploading and downloading consciousness isn't that new of a technology. Catracsus specializes in it. Your ship goes everywhere, right? We can grab a couple downloaders from them and have everything fixed before noon."

"Doesn't work like that," he whispered back. "Besides. The downloading isn't the issue. It's where they're being stored…"

Oswin nodded in increased understanding. That made sense. Before you could download something you had to be able to access the server.

She surveyed all the computers surrounding her. With a glance at Kate and the Doctor she sidled over to one and casually watched as one operator proceeded to clack away. He was programming something… Oswin didn't recognize the language at first, but line by line she noted syntax… picked out basic logic structures… When you knew how to program something in one language, others weren't hard to pick up.

The man was working on a series of search queries, pinging various facilities in an attempt to find the server no doubt.

"Doctor?" Oswin heard herself saying.

"Hmm?"

She saw him turn towards her out of the corner of her eye.

"Let me have a shot at it," she said with a confident smile. "I can find your server."

"Oswin, I…"

"I hacked into the entire Dalek network, remember? This will be like… like riding a tricycle with an extra set of training wheels."

"Oswin."

Her face fell as she took in the Doctor's suddenly serious expression again. Always with the seriousness.

"What," she said.

"I don't think that's the best idea," was all he said. The entirety of his explanation.

"But Doctor, I can find it!"

"Is she right, Doctor?" Kate asked. "Can she help us?"

"I…" The Doctor glanced from Oswin to Kate, his brow creasing with worry. "Can I talk to you for a second, Kate?"

Oswin's mind slipped into a sort of numbed betrayal as Kate and the Doctor turned their backs to her and began conversing in furious whispers. Moments later, the Doctor broke the huddle and returned to her side.

"I can help!" Oswin hissed at him. "You need a hacker. I am that hacker! The only reason you're alive right now is because I made the Daleks forget you."

"I know," the Doctor said, his mouth a set line. "You… exterminated me."

Oswin gaped at him, unable to form an immediate comeback. She found herself being directed over to a plain swivel chair across the room.

"It won't take that long," the Doctor promised her as she deposited herself in the seat. "And then we can take a walk around the city, see the sites, eat chips. Just give me… two minutes. Okay? Two minutes."

And then the Doctor left her there. Like a misbehaved child.

She sat there, pushing herself back and forth as she watched Kate and Doctor resume talk about the internet problem again. But this time they were acting like Oswin didn't exist.

Personally, Oswin didn't really care what the exact problem was anymore. She felt a little guilty and petty for thinking that, but just the way she'd been tossed aside… it stung.

And if that wasn't enough, as the minutes continued to pass and pass and pass, it seemed the building itself was trying to drive her slowly into madness.

The fluorescent lights continued to be too bright and cold. Even where she looked, she was reminded of dead, unfeeling tunnels. There weren't even any windows. It wasn't technically a prison, but it very well could've doubled as one.

Oswin hunched over, bringing her face to her knees. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she did that, she could forget where she currently was.

"Hey. Are you alright, miss?"

Oswin looked up. A friendly looking soldier was leaning over her, a concerned smile on his face. He was rather young and actually rather cute despite the uniform and the gun. Oswin smiled back.

"Oh," she said. "I'm… I'm fine."

"You don't look very fine. Do you want to step out with me? Get a quick breath of fresh air?"

"No really I couldn't," Oswin protested. "I said I wouldn't wander off."

"I don't see how it'd really be wandering off," the soldier said with an innocent shrug. "I mean, if that's really what you're worried about. I'll be with you the whole time. And you wouldn't even be leaving the main complex. It's just right outside. Just a quick bit of air and sunshine. The Doctor wouldn't even know you left."

At the word 'sunshine', Oswin's heart clenched.

When had she last seen the sun? She vaguely remembered stepping out of the wreckage of the Starship Alaska into a world of blinding snow. And then all too soon she'd found the shaft and the ladder that had led down, down into the darkness…

Oswin glanced at the Doctor who was currently flailing his arms like a demented puppeteer; he didn't seem to notice her in the slightest. She turned back to the soldier and gave him a hesitating smile.

"Alright," she said. "But only for a minute…"


	7. The Bells of Saint John

Oswin stood in the bright summer sun and let the rays simply soak into her skin.

She and the soldier had climbed several flights of stairs, ultimately popping out into the heart of some large, unknown metropolis. An underground complex. Well, that had explained the lack of windows.

Another soldier was standing watch at the entrance. He'd given them an acknowledging nod as they'd passed.

She didn't stray too far from the entrance, content with just watching as throng after throng of people wandered by. They did seem to give her - or either soldier - much notice.

"Why aren't any of them paying attention to us?" Oswin asked. "You guys have guns. Rather big guns."

"That's the beauty of this place," her new companion said with a grin. "It's the Tower of London. They think we're just posted to keep the average tourist out. Little does anyone know there's an entire secret military complex right beneath their noses!"

He said all of this as though it explained everything. It didn't, really, but Oswin nodded all the same.

"My name's Ben by the way," he said, holding out his hand. "Ben Fischer."

She blinked at him before slowly taking it.

"Oswin."

"Oswin?" he repeated. "That's unique name for girl." He paused and then flushed slightly. "N-not that it's a  _bad_  unique."

She smiled at him as he continued on to ramble about other mindless things. He told her about the apartment complex where he grew up, apparently just half a mile away (whatever length a 'mile' was), his parents and their professions, his early hopes and dreams, his current ambitions… Oswin took it all in, feeling a semblance of normality for the first time in… well, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this normal. And that was in spite of the fact that she wasn't getting even half of the local planetary references he was making.

"What about you?" Ben suddenly asked.

"Huh? Oh…" Oswin bit her lip, thinking. He didn't seem to be aware of the fact that she wasn't from his planet, and it was probably for the best to keep it that way for now. "I'm the entertainment director…  _was_  the entertainment director of a… ship."

"A cruise ship?"

"Yeah, that."

"Ah, I would tried for sails director myself."

It was a terrible, terrible pun, but Oswin laughed anyway. Then her stomach growled.

"When's the last time you ate?" Ben asked.

"Umm…"

She remembered eating soufflés over and over again… or had she only been cooking them? They'd always come out burnt, so most of them had gone straight in the bin. A bin that'd never seemed to get full… She also hadn't eaten anything since she got her new ganger body.

Now that she thought of it, she wasn't exactly sure how her new metabolism worked. Would she have to eat more? Less? Would she have any new mysterious allergies?

"Come on," Ben said. "I'll buy you some chips."

Oswin's eyes widened in alarm. She glanced at the soldier still posted on duty behind them.

"Oh no," she said quickly. "A bit of sun was one thing, but I  _really_  can't wander off."

"It's honestly not that far," Ben insisted. He gestured vaguely to his left. "Just around the block. One minute walk. Tops."

Oswin pursed her lips. "I made a promise," she said. As if that wasn't enough to get her point across, she crossed her arms and widened her stance, rooting herself into the cobblestones. She was there to stay.

"Alright, alright. You're a much better person than me. That's for sure," Ben said with a sigh. "If you are hungry though, I wouldn't mind getting them for you. Wait here. You wouldn't be wandering off. Ryan can look after you if you're really worried."

Oswin was still a little unsure. She glanced at the other soldier again; she assumed he was the 'Ryan.' Even staying on the doorstep of the complex… it made her nervous. She had her bit of sunlight. She should've been getting back inside.

But at the same time, she  _was_  really hungry.

"One minute you said?"

"Well, for the walk there." Ben stuck his hands in his pockets. "Gotta walk back too. And then there's also the queue."

"Five minutes," Oswin said with a slight upwards quirk of her lips. She held out her hand with all five fingers outstretched for extra emphasis. "Five minutes and then I'm going back inside, chips or no chips."

Ben grinned. "Understood, ma'am," he said with a mock salute. And then he was off, his pace somewhere between a brisk walk and a run.

* * *

"Well, of  _course_  they wouldn't be able to get through if they assumed everything was being parsed in your basic binary! You. Move."

The nearest programmer yelped as the Doctor practically shoved her out of her chair. After several nanoseconds of getting acquainted with the computer's various open windows, the Doctor began to furiously type. An innocent query here… a slightly more malicious attack there…

It was child's play. He broke through the initial firewalls before his code had gotten long enough to require scroll bars.

"Is this really the best UNIT can do these days?" he snapped to the room at large.

"Doctor…" Kate said tersely.

It was slightly unfair he knew, given Earth's development and their familiarity with these kind of alien languages, but still. People's lives were at stake. The least they could've done was thrown some sort of creativity in the mix.

"I'm sorry, Oswin," he called out. "Next time I  _will_  consult you first."

He waited for her response. For a curt 'yes' of agreement. Or perhaps a flippant retort about how he'd dismissed her. Instead, he was met with silence. He swiveled around towards the corner he'd left her in.

Her chair was empty.

The Doctor's face drained of color as his hearts sunk with trepidation.


	8. The Bells of Saint John

Oswin should’ve been disgusted at the amount of grease currently trickling down her fingers, but she bit in ravenously instead. The fried crust was pure heaven.

“Woah! You really were starving, weren’t you?” Ben said in awe. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Don’t remember,” Oswin said between bites.

“Ah. Workaholic then. I know the type when I see them.”

Her mouth was too full of food for a reply. It was an easy enough explanation though and one that she wouldn’t argue. Oswin simply nodded, her cheeks protruding slightly with half-chewed food. She covered her mouth with her hands and swallowed.

“Thanks again,” she managed.

“No problem. Anything to help a damsel in distress,” he said with a grin. It faded slightly and he suddenly looked anxious? Apprehensive? He cleared his throat softly. “Which, by the way, I know you travel with the Doctor and he’s… well… but if you are from around here, I wouldn’t suppose you’d… That is… if you’re interested, I’m free Friday night.”

Oswin stared at him. She blinked.

“Are you inviting me on a date?” she said blankly.

Her chest felt sort of… _giddy_ at the invitation.

“Well, yeah,” Ben said He scratched the back of his head. “You seem like a really cool person and I… Oswin?”

She’d stopped listening to him. Her full attention was on a point past his shoulder, her face falling quickly into dismay. The Doctor was standing by the entrance of the UNIT facility looking positively murderous.

Her lighthearted outing, it seemed, was at an end.

Refusing to be the one who took full blame, Oswin stuck a chip in her mouth and tried to look as innocent as possible as he stormed over towards them. Ben took one look at the new intruder and peeled off. So much for chivalry.

“What are you _doing_?” the Doctor hissed, one eye on the nearby throngs of tourists.

Apparently he didn’t want to cause a scene. That was good for her.

“Eating,” Oswin said, holding up her basket of fish and chips. She raised an eyebrow at him. “My first time in over a year, you know.”

“One rule. I gave you one rule.”

“I had an escort the entire time,” she said. “A military escort even.”

The Doctor let out a snort of laughter. “Because one human with a gun is really enough to stop a Dalek.”

Something snapped in Oswin at that. With her free hand, she grabbed the Doctor by his lapels and yanked him close. A couple tourists paused briefly to stare; Oswin tried to ignore them.

“I am _not_ a Dalek,” she viciously hissed.

The Doctor was not convinced.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lock you back up in the TARDIS right now,” he whispered.

Oswin stared at the alien she was currently holding from the throat. His brows narrowed, his dark eyes piercing straight through her. There was a defiance in them that matched her own. She used to be quite good at winning battles of wills, but something told her this would be a wholly different game.

She let the Doctor go, practically shoving him backwards as she did so. He stumbled slightly before regaining his balance. As he straightened his purple bow tie with an affronted air, the image of a stodgy, overgrown peacock came to Oswin’s mind. Another personality trait to take note of for later.

“Because people make mistakes?” she finally said, popping another chip halfway into her mouth. As she chewed on the end, she considered certain things. “Plus you need me.”

The Doctor gaped at her.

“ _I_ need _you_?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Oswin said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have remembered I existed.”

He glared at her. “I never-“

“Yes. Yes, you did!” Oswin snapped. “You promised me a fun first outing. My first outing after months and months of physical and pychological torture! And what do you do? You take me to some godforsaken military complex - an _underground_ complex, I might add - and then abandon me in some corner! So yes! I admit it! I was hungry! I wanted to feel the actual sun again! I’m sorry that’s such a terrible thing!”

She was breathing heavy now. The Doctor was staring at her, stunned.

“Umm…” came a hesitant voice.

Oswin whipped her head around to see Ryan the soldier wringing his hands nervously.

“Not that I want to get in the middle of anything,” he said. “But if you’re going to continue to yell like that… Could you please take it inside?”

He nodded his head in the direction of several tourists who had stopped and were actively staring now. Oswin felt her face grow flush.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Oswin, I…” The Doctor trailed off, and then his face grew dark. He took a deep breath. “I’ll forgive you this once. But if this ever happens again. _Ever_ happens again-“

“Alright! Alright!” Oswin cried in exasperation. “Next time I’ll just starve to death. I’ve got it,” she quipped, letting her bravado mask her fear.

 The Daleks feared the Doctor.

It was an entirely reasonable fear.

Oswin used to think she understood it because she’d immersed herself in the Dalek’s centralized unit database. She’d wormed her way in, had sifted through the entire Dalek and Doctor history, and then had deleted it from existence. There’d been countless battles… countless deaths… It was only reasonable that one be affected while in the moment.

But now she had an unpleasant thought. The fear she currently felt… Was it really her own fear? Or had a bit of the database rubbed off on her? Had it crept beneath her mind and altered her thoughts, altered her feelings, even as she thought she’d been the one doing the alterations?

There was an unease between the two of them. An unease that had settled in the second the Doctor had realized who she was and - even now - clung to them like a sticky fog.

What if everything she did… What if it was never enough?

In front of her, the Doctor’s mouth twisted. It was clear that, at least on the outside, Oswin wasn’t taking the situation seriously enough for him. For a moment he looked like he was about to start arguing again, and then he shoulders slumped.

“You’re right,” the Doctor said. Exhaustion seeped through his words. “I need you to take a look at a couple of firewalls. As for you-“ He walked towards Ryan. When he was barely a foot away, he leaned in, towering over the poor guard as he looked him up and down. His own personal, detailed inspection. Then the Doctor simply shook his head and walked back inside.

Ryan looked at Oswin, seemingly for either some kind of help or explanation.

If only she had anything to give.

She shrugged in apology, ate another chip, and then followed the Doctor back underground.


End file.
